because his temples are so grey

Ah, I like thinking about Murdoc getting older...

-Murdoc finally reckons with the fact that he can’t read the newspaper unless he’s holding it two feet away from his face. So he sucks it up, goes to the eye doctor, and finally comes back home with a pair of reading glasses. When the band sees him with them on for the first time Russel says Murdoc looks just like Grandpa Hobbs, 2D can’t even look at him without laughing, and Noodle takes a picture of him and makes it her phone background. 

-Murdoc buys men’s hair dye from the pharmacy and has Noodle touch up his roots every once in a while because he’s starting to grey around his temples and there is no way in hell he’s doing band promos with grey hair. 

-Russel is a little shit and starts slipping pamphlets for retirement homes into Murdoc’s mail every morning. Murdoc flips his shit when he sees them and always rips them up and throws the pieces out the window, and Russel can’t even bother trying to keep a straight face about it. 

-Murdoc has a tiny crisis at a bar one night when he tries to flirt with a woman and gets completely written off because he’s way too old for her. Murdoc’s just standing there in shock, and 2D pats him on the shoulder and takes him out of the bar and tells him that maybe he should just consider being a sugar daddy or something. He’s old enough for it. 

-Murdoc is constantly looking up advice and gimmicks online to keep his penis in tip top shape because, no, he is not going to be one of those old farts that can’t get it up in their 60s, and he is sure as hell not going to reduce himself to Viagra. He’s a fucking sex God, dammit. He doesn’t need those pills. 

-Murdoc comes into Noodle’s room drunk one night, complaining that he’s gonna be one of those old men with beer bellies and man boobs, so the next morning Noodle tries to ease him into her healthy diet, because she’s the only one in the house that eats properly. Murdoc keeps complaining about it because he doesn’t like all the green shit she’s putting on his plate, but she posts pictures of beer guts and moobs all over the house to motivate him into staying with it.

-Russel realizes how loud Murdoc’s headphones are when he wears them in the studio, and he has the rest of the house convinced that Murdoc’s actually going deaf. 2D starts screaming everything he has to say to Murdoc so he can hear him, and Murdoc doesn’t know why the fuck he keeps doing that, I can hear you just fine you fucking idiot, stop your bleedin’ screaming!

anonymous asked:

How do you imagine Draco and Harry's future? Like, would they marry or just opt to stay together? Would they adopt children? Your domestic drarry is love.

I can think of different scenarios, but mostly

I imagine Draco and Harry would have lived together forever already when the thought of marriage crosses either one’s mind. They don’t really talk about it or think about it (other than when Draco’s parents have one of their tirades over Draco’s marriage-less state) so it doesn’t really come up, it’s not like they’d benefit from it materially or officially. when they do become an item also for the public’s eye, even if some people disagree they don’t really have any power to hinder either Harry or Draco from doing their thing.

so when it does come up, I imagine them both past their 40s, living together at Grimmauld Place with a fat cat/kneazle mix named Dorothy. Harry’s making dinner, listening to something awful on the radio and whistling along, probably talking to the cat as well. Draco shuffles out of his small lab/work room still in his pajama pants, briefly leafing through the mail until he gets to the kitchen’s doorstep and observes the scene: Harry’s dancing to Celestina Warbeck, he has crinkles around his eyes and there’s grey along his temples, and still flashes a delighted smirk in Draco’s direction when he notices him leaning in the doorway, trying to compose himself because he can’t believe he loves the spectacled tosser so much. 

“Marry me” escapes Draco before he can form any coherent thoughts and he’s decidedly just as surprised as Harry, who nearly chokes and steps on the cat. Draco certainly didn’t expect their Saturday to take this turn of events, but he can’t for the love of god recall why. He doesn’t even ask, instead he says it like a challenge. When Harry stops coughing he’s still visibly flustered, but there’s not a speck of hesitation in his voice and no doubt in his smile. In a few weeks time they elope. It’s a scandal. Draco’s parents don’t talk to him for weeks for not inviting them. Narcissa is unbearable so they still have a relatively secret tiny ceremony in the Manor’s gardens some few months later. Harry eats a million canapés and has a small misunderstanding with the resident peacock who hates his guts. Draco’s oscillating between the Weasleys and Malfoys who tolerate each other to a bearable extent but aren’t exactly chummy either. He’s drunk within 20 minutes of this. It’s not long before Harry and Draco both opt to fuck off to their honeymoon a bit early. 


as to having children, I don’t really think they’d adopt. Harry’s (at least partially) raising Teddy, and they are surrounded by the children of their friends which are like nephews or nieces to them anyway. 

I do have a separate story concerning this in mind, but I’m going to be writing a fic about it so you can find out soon! <3 nevertheless, I hope I could give a satisfactory answer!

3

Where the Road Ends is the Beginning - Daifuku Week (Noragami, Kofuku, Daikoku)

Kofuku says it was ‘love at first sight’ for her with Daikoku, but how did their lives together begin? I’d like to think it was during the Genpei Wars of Japan, the conflict between the Taira and the Minamoto, two dominant samurai clans of imperial lineage.

So some headcanon pics and a fic for Day 1 of daifukuweek​ . 


[ Where the Road Ends is the Beginning ]

His horse laboured through the mud. Cold rain beat down upon the warrior, seeping through his armour and chilling him to the bone. That, and the thought of his comrades left behind, hurt more deeply than his wounds.

He had wanted to stay and fight to the finish, and had only been able to tear himself away when Lord Tadanori issued a direct command for him to leave. Your valour is unquestioned, Tadanori had told him, gripping his shoulders. But someone must go swiftly and warn our forces in Yashima - the Imperial Household must flee. As one of his former bodyguards, His Majesty will be comforted by your presence.

The Emperor was only a child of six after all, with eyes darkened from crying, eyes that had seen too much.

Keep reading

4

Usually i don’t post information about me, but i’ve had an operation today (still have been feeling like a piece of crap). In so far as it’s the end of the year i think it’s time to say what good thing has happened with me this year.

JIBCon. oh. Now I’m looking at this pictures and ain’t believing that was me. Oh that feelings when they hug, when they look at you… I’ll always keep it in my mind.  I’m not the person who goes out somewhere, even to a cafe. What about to go abroad. It’s incredible.
The 1st day blew my mind right away. There was as called cocktail party which was very odd. Actors crawled on their knees. Actually they could don’t do it, but Misha did. When he’s kneeling in front of you, looking in your eyes and you’re trying to look in his infinitely blue eyes, you are literally dead. Maybe i exaggerate but that is what i felt. And when he asked me, “Do you want to ask me something?” I said, “No”. I still blame myself for this “No”. I didn’t know how to breathe, not about to talk in foreign language! (My English has zero level, i suppose).
Anyway i was looking at him almost 2 minutes (maybe more) while he was talking with other girls. Looking at corners of his lips, at his grey hairs at the temples, at his short hairs on the arms … I think i have a kink about that. When our time was over i don’t know if i had so upset puppy eyes or something else, but Misha gave me a hug. I was so surprised about that, because other people asked to take a selfie, to hug him but i didn’t. 

Oh, my feelings at that moment and after.

Jensen photo op. One interesting thing (for me at least). After photo op when we were thanking each other i noticed, “He’s looking at my face longer than it’s necessary. What is he doing? Oh, he’s counting my freckles. Oh .. my..god .. ” as i thought but i don’t know what he was actually doing.

Jared photo op.
I was so exciting to meet him. He hugged me so hard that it seems my bones crunched. I will never forget his smile. He’s actual sunshine. Never forget his eyes when he was looking at my art (if you wonder my art signed by the guys, it’s here and here).
There is a thing i cry about: I wanted to photo op with Jared and Genevieve, but i had no many for this.

J2M photo op.
There was a music in photo op room. I don’t remember what kind, but it was. I had the idea about photo, something like “we are Misha’s big fans”, Op! It’s my time. And the music stopped. Jensen like, “No music. No photo ”. I’m confused. “What should i do?” Of course, i should have come to them but i didn’t. I’m totally confused. Misha corrected the situation. He said in Russian, “Давай, давай, иди”. It means "Come on, come, come”. That was the 3rd time when he really surprised me. Where? How? Why does he know that i’m Russian, i didn’t tell him, I just said “Hi” and “No”. 

I do love this photo. They all are looking so good. Fabulous Jensen (as he is), sunshine Jared and the cutest Misha.

How many words have i written? To sum up that was so unbelievable, incredible, terrific, exciting and many other words.
Thank God for this good thing that has happened with me.

anonymous asked:

Derek & Stiles happily married w/ 2 almost teenage kids and a dog. Derek being insecure when one day he discovers a grey hair on his beard and rushing to buy some tipe of hairdye(he gets the wrong colour) so he decides to shave. 1/2

Stiles is surprised to see shaved! Derek cause he kept the beard for years. One day after amazing sex Stiles sees that Derek has some grey hair on his temples and asks Derek if that’s the reason why he kept shaving. Fluff and comfort ensues.

*SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* YES

Listen, though. Imagine Derek who hasn’t been beardless since he started dating Stiles. It’s a weird adjustment, especially for the kids who are like “did a witch curse your beard off????” because once they saw Derek’s beard catch goddamn fire and even then he didn’t shave, just kept growing it until it evened out again. Their Papa is as dedicated to his beard as their Dad is passionate about Star Wars (for the first six years of their lives they actually thought Halloween was some kind of sci-fi holiday because Stiles always dressed them in varying Star Wars costumes). 

It’s weird for everyone and the kids tease Derek mercilessly but Stiles, after a little teasing himself (of course), senses Derek is a little uncomfortable about it so he makes it his mission to make Derek feel as good as possible in his newly shaved glory. Sure, Derek does have a habit of falling asleep on the couch after reading and Stiles just can’t resist the temptation to draw a dick on his face at least once because he will always be proudly twelve on a scale of one to ten years old but, mostly, he tries to invent ways to make Derek feel like he isn’t missing something every time he goes to touch his beard and finds it’s not there. 

He pays just as much attention to Derek’s face during sex as he ever did (doing his very best not to lament the loss of beard burn) and spends a lot of time sucking hickeys just about anywhere that used to be covered with hair. He even takes up shaving Derek, insisting he read somewhere shaving “your man” is a great way to boost intimacy in a relationship; one of the kids, overhearing, yells IF YOUR RELATIONSHIP GETS ANYMORE INTIMATE I AM MOVING OUT AND SUING YOU BOTH. Derek wants to ask just how they plan on suing them but this kid takes after Stiles 3000% and if they say they are going to sue, they’ll find a reason and probably make a 30 slide long power point just to prove the point. 

Eventually, Derek isn’t able to keep the charade up any longer - not unless he wants to shave his head too - and he isn’t sure why he’s freaking out but he is. Maybe it’s because he’s getting close to the age his dad was when he died or the fact that Laura always used to joke that when Derek got grey hair she’d buy him a salt and pepper set, just to mark the occasion. Maybe it’s because he’s not as fast or strong as he once was and looking in the mirror reminds him of that every day now and even though he knows Stiles isn’t as fast and strong as he once was too - hell, they can have sex for an hour now without Stiles being in danger of coming (Stiles used to always be on round 3 of sex while Derek had barely finished round 1) - but suddenly, Derek feels like he’s less somehow.

Less capable. Less attractive. Less able. He’s been married to Stiles for nineteen years and yet, something in him is still terrified Stiles will wake up and realise Derek isn’t enough. That whatever Derek did for him before, provided him with before, is gone now.

Of course, this is a load of nonsense and when Stiles realises the reason Derek has been shaving is because Derek is afraid Stiles will leave him or, worse, stop loving him, well, he - first - gives Derek a lecture on why that could never and will never happen (yes there are PowerPoint slides and even a pie chart involved) and then spends the next hour listing all the reasons why Derek’s beard is the 8th wonder of the world before burning - literally burning - every razor in the house. Derek tries hard to keep a straight face throughout the whole thing but when he overhears one of the kids whispering from the next room - “oh no, dad’s being over dramatic again, how many times do you think he’s going to wave his hands? Fifteen bucks says at least forty. Do you think it’s safe to go to the kitchen to get a snack? I will literally pay you to do it for me” -  he can’t help but laugh. 

Within a week Derek is well on his way to having his beard back and Stiles doesn’t waste any opportunity to pet it with a reverent, “ah, I’ve missed you old friend”. Derek thought it would get old after the first five times Stiles did it and while it is annoying, Derek can’t help but feel butterflies churning in his stomach each time too. Damn you, Stilinski. 

anonymous asked:

Are prompts open? If so, would you write about the moment Dean saw Sam realize Dean loved him 'like that'?

Dean had played it over in his mind a hundred times, more than that, but when it happened it wasn’t like any of the moments he’d come up with. Not the melodramatic ones, the declarations of love, and not the ones he thought might be more realistic in a someday sorta way. 

They were sitting in a bar, dirty plates in front of them and a couple beers in. Things had been good lately, better ‘n they’d been in years, and some days they even drove through a little town or two further than they’d meant to that day just cause they weren’t in the mood to stop, were in the middle of a conversation – a real, honest-to-god conversation – or just felt like watching the road flow into the sunset a little longer. 

Tonight Dean felt the most like himself that he had in a long long while. He kept looking at Sam and having flashbacks to their younger selves – the way Sam shook the ketchup bottle, the same strand of hair that always came untucked, the way he’d pull his mouth together before he answered a complication question. Sam was going grey now, just a little around the temples, and Dean thought it looked great but it also made him think so much about the Sam who had chucked a duffle into the back seat and said ‘one hunt, that’s it’. The one he had fallen in love with.

Sam looked up and saw the look in Dean’s eyes, like the ones he got sometimes when he was looking at a beautiful girl across the room. He smiled a soft tiny smile and looked over his shoulder. She must be right behind him because it’d felt like Dean’s eyes were right on him.

‘What one?’ he said. Dean focused on his cheek.

‘Huh?’

‘Which girl?’

Dean didn’t say anything, just looked down at the table and then up again, full in Sam’s face. 

‘Wasn’t looking at the girls,’ he said, and then didn’t say anything while Sam cycled through several different expressions. He settled on one that Dean couldn’t read, which was aggravating. 

‘No?’ Sam said. Dean just crossed his arms, like he was waiting for a firing squad. Maybe he was. 

‘Just - Sammy, for chrissake,’ he said, after a minute, going for lightness but not quite disguising the scrape of panic underneath. Sam looked down and said into the bits of tomato sauce left on his plate,

‘Dean, I’ve been looking at you like that since I was seventeen.’


anonymous asked:

Loving your prompt fills :DD Could I tempt you into writing some h/c where Hannibal is unwell but tries to hide it?

(This is probably not the h/c you were thinking of, and please look at the tags dear anon, but thank you for the prompt & writing this was useful for me so thank you again and please prompt again if you’d like to!)

- - -

“Well, what does it say?”

Hannibal rounds on his heel at the words, and meticulously fights and subdues the impulse to draw the half-open envelope behind his back.

He’s come into the living room, where earlier, pacing and restless in the small hours, he’d drawn open the curtains to watch the dawn light creep over the mountain peaks, the reddish colour spilling over the snow.

The mail comes at the same time every day, and Hannibal nearly always collects it, brings it in and neatly sorts it through into various trays. Their Swedish identities don’t generate a great volume of paper, but there’s always a few things one cannot receive by email - flyers for the local church bazaar, the historic buildings society, the wine catalogue, and now this.

Which should have been camouflaged by the rest, and so how did Will know?

Does Will know anything, or is this bluff? Or even innocence?

Hannibal examines his husband’s face. The lines are set a little deeper around Will’s eyes than once they were, and this makes subtleties of expression a little harder to perceive. He wears glasses because he must, not just for show, and his temples are shot with silver and lead-grey.

“The hospital called while you were out, six weeks ago now,” Will says, quite calmly. He reaches out and trails one forefinger along the edge of the glossy wooden cabinet he built Hannibal for his fifty-fifth birthday - it houses vinyl recordings perfectly, and the volumes of naval adventure stories Will won’t part with, and there is a vase of dried grasses on the top, preserved from when they spent the months in Delphi three summers ago.

Hannibal raises an eyebrow. “That might be considered a non-sequitur.” He’s reaching, trying - this was what he didn’t want, this conversation, in this house, in their life.

Will takes another small step forward. He’s wearing leather slippers that match Hannibal’s, silent on the deep carpet. The house is centrally heated, but they like to keep it right for dressing properly. Will has grown more fastidious in matters of dress, and in the arranging of their space; the honeysuckle and white tea hand wash is delivered from the UK for both bathrooms and the en-suite, their sourdough culture was born among the grasses in that same Delphic shrine. Even the dog’s coat is bespoke.

Will has shut the door on Rex, now, however.

“You weren’t in the states, that week,” Will says. “That much was obvious.”

“Obvious?” Hannibal’s eyes widen. “Obvious, am I now?”

“Yes, darling, always.” Will comes closer as he speaks, and puts his hand to Hannibal’s elbow, above where he’s still clutching the envelope.

Hannibal thinks about all the times out at the summer house on the island in the gulf of Finland, Will’s arms around him, teaching him to fish, the scent of sun lotion and sweat on skin, the bone wind-chime that grows each year (and there’s a small box in the hallway, even now, metacarpals waiting to be added).

“You said nothing,” Hannibal points out.

“You didn’t want me to, clearly. And I didn’t think it would be of any practical use.”

“But now…” Hannibal catches a deep breath instead of finishing his sentence. He clears his throat, and then rips the rest of the paper seal. A folded sheet inside smells of cheap printer ink and brown indignity.

“Will…”

“Always,” Will tells him. “Always, always and forever, you know that.”

Hannibal reaches out and takes the glasses off, gently, and kisses Will’s eyelids, one and then the other.

“You look,” he says.

Will unfolds the paper. He bites his lip, reading rapidly, and then his eyes flick up, bright. 

No malignant cells detected in excised bowel polyp,” Will reads out. “Return in six months for surveillance scan.”

And Hannibal finds himself ungently tackled to the sofa, and kisses back with just as much bite, and cups Will’s smooth behind to draw them together and shudders and moistens and feels the strength of his own blood pumping.

Outside, the sun finds its zenith, and all the world is pure and fresh and waiting.

Cory Monteith: After All These Years

After all these years of missing Cory I have been looking through thousands of pictures of our “fallen hero” and came across this gem.  I think that this is the first one I’ve seen in a while where I acutually see Cory as the man he was and not the teen he portrayed on Glee.  I can’t tell if I ever made the connection before because I was so invested in the show and the allusion that Ryan and Brad where creating, but in this picture you can see the aged wisedom in his eyes along with the greying at this temples. I may be in the minority, but I find this picture of the real Cory much more sexy than any of the ones where he had the grey colored out to make him appear to be that 19 year old teen.  Not sure if anyone else feels the same way.  Hit me up and let me know.

anonymous asked:

What started the joke about you having a priest kink, how does something like that happen?

One day, we did this show with some boys from the seminary, where we sang religious songs and read religious stories. You know, stuff like that.

My wallpaper on my phone was set as some Gravity Falls fan art of Bipper in these huge stripper shoes, so there were already, “Oh, no. Don’t let Patsy flirt with the priests,” jokes. But that’s not how things got bad.

While we have a “home library”, our children’s entertainment group performs for a ton of things, and we have this huge Connect with the Community! bulletin board we put up, with pictures of us at libraries and schools and festivals. Our boss takes pictures for it, and they’re usually pretty cute!

Unfortunately, I have cleavage in anything that’s cut below my collarbones, so before we went on, I put a cardigan over my dress, because I didn’t want to flash a bunch of priests and kids, and in that moment, my boss snapped an incredible picture:

The summer sunset is bleeding through a stained glass portrait of the Virgin Mary. A young priest, prematurely greying at the temples and standing at least a foot taller than I am, is placing his hand on my shoulder, smiling. I’m looking up at him, lips stained red from cranberry juice and parted to speak words I can’t remember. Everything is warm and bright and lovely.

Except for the fact that it looks like he’s staring at my chest and that it looks like I’m UNbuttoning my cardigan and that I have one of those doe-eyed-pouty-lipped faces that look sexual when I’m not smiling.

Anon, you don’t understand how badly I wish I had this picture. It was beautiful. To the point where we have considered making our friend dress up like a priest to recreate it.

But boss deleted it because of how obscene it ended up looking and also because we were all on the floor laughing our goddamn asses off and she didn’t want us to have any fun because she wishes we would all die.

Please draw pictures of me flirting with priests so we can hang them up at work.

I want to see a Wash who feels insecure about his relationship with Tucker due to his age.  

He’s easily probably a lot older than Tucker, based on how long he’s been a special ops dude, while Tucker’s probably in his late twenties by season 11.

And Wash has never quite felt old, he’s still a good soldier and in top physical condition, but he’s starting to get a few wrinkles on his face and his hair has started to grey a bit, and being with someone half his age really makes him think about it more.

Keep reading

kaza999  asked:

what would pitch and jack's relationship be like if their positions were reversed? if pitch were the courtesan and jack the king, using the umbran system (disregarding the continuity and timeline issues this would cause)?

Yeah you know what? I HAD to write this as a fic. And it got kind of long. 

Presenting to you: 

Title: Pitch the Courtesan

Notes: This is just a quick little ficlet, but I hope you enjoy it :) Thanks to everyone from the Tinychat last night for the advice and the inspiration. 

Summary: Pitch is the youngest prince of the shadow kingdom, but he isn’t interested in the life of leisure that could come with that. He is a fierce warrior, hugely protective of his country, his people.

And then one day his father tells him that it is time to do his duty as a prince. A peace treaty has been drawn up with the Moon, and Pitch is to be an integral part of that.

He is to be given to the young Moon King as a courtesan

Keep reading

In a different universe, Sherlock thinks that maybe things would have turned out differently. Perhaps in that timeline, he and John would have returned from a crime scene with the thrum of adrenaline in their veins and the giddiness of a problem well solved. They would close the front door and Sherlock would lean against it with a grin. They would look at each other and Sherlock would hear the rush of blood pounding in his ears as John boxed him in with his arms. Anticipation would make Sherlock breathless and all he would have seen were the grey hairs at John’s temple and the dip of his eyelashes. John would lean in, maybe. He would change his mind last minute and stop, would exhale a breath against Sherlock’s jaw until Sherlock drew a shaky hand through the soft hair behind John’s ear and said brokenly, “Please, John.”

And in a different universe, John would press his lips to the underside of Sherlock’s jaw, and it would be too much. John would breathe against his skin and he would kiss Sherlock’s jaw, his chin, his mouth and Sherlock would be lost.

—  because this just became so relevant [x]

McCree absolutely loving Hanzo’s hair because it’s long and straight and dark except for the smudges of grey at his temples that make him look so refined while McCree’s hair is always a knotted brown mess that his momma could never run a comb through.

Hanzo sitting in front of the mirror one day with a comb and his hair scarf and casually doing his hair when he notices his boyfriend staring at him with a miserable love face and he’s just “wtf why are you staring Jesse” and McCree is just awestruck every single day by how handsome Hanzo is and he’s so in love with his boyfriend he can’t take it anymore

Family Secrets

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG13
Summary: I never thought much about Charlie Scully until Home Again.  And then I thought a lot about Charlie Scully.  

She hadn’t seen her younger brother in twenty years.  To this day, she still doesn’t know what happened between her mother and Charlie, but obviously it was something huge.  No one would talk about the rift in the family.  After a few years, it just was what it was.  Of course she’d been intensely curious and concerned about it, but all her attempts to mend whatever had broken had been unsuccessful.  She was grateful that in the last moments of her mother’s life, Charlie had shown up, even if it was over the phone, he was there.

She was nervous to see him again.  She’d often wondered how he’d changed, what he was doing with his life, who he was now.  They’d agreed to meet in a coffee shop downtown.  Charlie was passing through DC on his way to North Carolina.  She didn’t know what he was doing there or where he was coming from, only that he’d be in DC, and then he’d be in North Carolina.

She recognized him immediately.  His hair might’ve been thinner and the red was now mixed with grey now, both at his temples and in his beard, but he looked like the same Charlie.  She stood and had to blink away the tears that clouded her eyes because the last time she saw him, Melissa was still alive and though one lost sibling can be returned, it reminded her of the one that couldn’t.

“Charlie,” she said, hugging him tightly.

“You look good, Dana,” he answered, raising his sunglasses up on his head.

“So do you.”  She stared at his face with a bit of disbelief that he was real and standing in front of her.  “Do you want to sit?  Catch up?”

“Sure.”

***********

Keep reading

rigormortisbutt  asked:

JULIE. I just imagined Tyler Hoechlin with a salt and pepper beard and I teared up a little

I UNDERSTAND

I admit to getting more tear-y over DEREK in a salt-and-pepper beard, though. Derek living long enough to start showing signs of age; Derek having a brood of li'l ones who give him new grey hairs with every amazing impossible year; Derek having to do special stretches on the floor every morning, because his back needs a little extra help to heal up properly these days. Derek’s smile-lines getting so deep around his eyes that his youngest daughter makes a habit of crawling onto his lap and tracing them with curious fingers.

(Stiles, coming up behind him in the mirror, spreading one big hand just under Derek’s jaw to get him to tilt up, show them both where he’s going grey all down his neck. “Mmph,” Stiles says emphatically, pushing his nose into the white at Derek’s temple, sliding his other palm around to rest at the softening curve of Derek’s lower belly. “Hello, silver fox.”)

“Really,” Derek deadpans, raising an unimpressed, increasingly-bushy eyebrow even as he shifts further into Stiles’ space.

Well.” Stiles shrugs, drags in a wolf-like breath of Derek’s just-showered scent. “It was either that or call you ‘Daddy,’ and I figured I needed to work you up to that, so.”) 

BillDip ideas

Bill puts streaks of white and grey in his hair when in human form, so Dipper feels better about going grey

Bill telling Dipper continually that the grey streaks at his temples make him look refined

Bill using his magic to take away Dipper’s joint pains as he gets older

Bill carrying Dipper up the stairs when he’s in his 90s because he doesn’t want Dipper to hurt himself in any way

Bill reminding Dipper that no matter how old he gets he will never not be beautiful

Bill doing everything in his power to make Dipper immortal so they will never be apart

And by extension the Grunkles and Mabel because Dipper loves them so much

The Pines are just all immortal now

Dipper young again years after he ought to have died, babysitting Mabel’s twin great great grandbabies while Mabel and her great granddaughter are out shopping

anonymous asked:

What is your favorite picture of Misha?

I love so many pictures of Misha. The ones where he’s in character, the ones where he’s at cons, hell, even the ones the fandom affectionately calls the “Meanwhile Misha” pics.

But my favorite picture? That would be this one.

Why? Because no one looking at Misha in this picture would realize he was an actor, or had fans. They would think he was a regular man, with a typical dad shirt, greying temples, and glasses perched on his nose.

This is how I picture Misha when there’s no fans around, no cameras running. This is him at his most comfortable: blending into a community and helping it any way he can.

I know how stupid it sounds, but this is my favorite picture. The others show Misha the actor, the entertainer, and the larger than life personality. This one shows him as who he really is, someone hell-bent on changing the world.